Minerva, Mayhem, and Mind Control!

A tranquil day in Gotham City. And what could be more soothing than a couple of hours in Minerva's Mineral Spa? The spa, named for its proprietor and themed around Roman mythology, had become something of a magnet for Gotham’s wealthy elite, including Bruce Wayne. Crimefighting was hard work, and Bruce found that a massage every so often kept him in tip top shape.

Bruce lay facedown on the massage table as a muscular man in white with “Adonis” labeled on his shirt massaged his back and shoulders.

“For a millionaire who does nothing but count money, Mr. Wayne, you stay in fair condition” observed the massive masseuse.

Bruce was used to deflecting comments about his physique, which secretly came from his training as Batman. “Oh, I try to keep pretty active with falconry and spelunking. And you people here at Minerva's Mineral Spa keep me in pretty good shape.”

Adonis finished the massage. “Well, that’ll about do it for you sir. Unless, of course, you'd like one of Minerva's Eggplant Jelly Vitamin Scalp Massages.”

Bruce was tempted, he had heard good things about this particular massage, but his spa visit had already taken up too much time away from his activities as Batman.

“No, I've got to get dressed and get out of here. Thank you,” he said, as he left to go get his clothes.

But unbeknownst to Bruce, another millionaire who was not so pressed for time, was about to receive the renowned scalp massage of Minerva. The millionaire, Mr. Dozier, laid back in his chair, a cigar in his mouth. He was completely relaxed, and ready for his Eggplant Jelly Vitamin Scalp Massage.

“Tell me dahling,” a feminine voice with a thick Hungarian accent asked, “how did you collect zat divine fortune of yours?”

The voice belonged to Minerva, who had a reputation of being one of Gotham City’s most glamorous and beautiful women. She had luxurious blond hair that she wore up, and she was wearing a sparkling gold dress, pink lipstick, and dangling diamond earrings. Minerva looked to be in her early fifties, but had aged well - she exuded a raw, flirtatious sex appeal. She began to sensually run her fingers through Mr. Dozier’s hair, massaging his scalp.

Mr. Dozier, however, seemed unaffected by her numerous charms. He glanced up at her and answered. “By never taking a beautiful woman at face-value, Minerva.”

Minerva pretended to chuckle at the millionaire's joke. “Ha ha, tell me more dahling. Tell me, where do you keep zat fortune?” She lowered what looked like a salon hair dryer on to Mr. Dozier’s head, then took a few steps towards a cabinet, which she opened to reveal a machine labeled “Deepest Secret Extractor.”

She flipped a switch on the machine, and Mr. Dozier instantly began convulsing in his seat as the machine began to read his thoughts, telling Minerva exactly where he kept his valuables hidden. Minerva listened through a receiver, repeating what she heard.

“Two million dollars' worth of negotiable securities... in ze grandfather's clock, of course. Well, of course!” Minerva exclaimed, overjoyed at the effectiveness of her machine.

She switched it off, and walked over to Dozier.

“Here you are, dahling.” She lifted the hairdryer off of Mr. Dozier, who looked completely relaxed, almost euphoric. Minerva turned to her henchman. “Atlas, put Mr. Dozier into our perfumed pressurizer.”

Minerva could not be more thrilled at how her operation was running. She had emigrated to Gotham City after being bored to tears in her life as a wealthy Hungarian socialite, and started the spa as a cover for her true ambition: Crime! She had heard of Gotham’s super villainesses - Catwoman, Olga, Marsha, Siren, to name a few - and decided that emulating them would bring real excitement to her life for the first time. And so far, she was right! Fleecing millionaires, avoiding police suspicion, and of course, getting all that wonderful loot had been extremely satisfying for Minerva.

Her brilliant machine almost made things TOO easy. She learned where these millionaires kept their most secret of valuables, and sent her team to pilfer them. Minerva had been amassing quite a collection of stolen goods, but she still felt the desire for more.

She walked to the front desk, as Millionaire Bruce Wayne was about to check out, and she wanted to entice him into getting the scalp massage treatment on his next visit. Minerva handed Bruce a security box containing his wallet and watch.

“Here you are dahling,” she purred. “I hope you enjoyed your treatment.”

Bruce smiled. “Minerva, after every visit to your spa, I always feel like a new man.”

Minerva smirked. “Hmm, I feel like a new man too, Bruce” she said, seductively.

Bruce’s face slightly reddened at her comment. Minerva had at least ten years of age on him, but he couldn’t deny that he found her extremely attractive. In the brief second he considered her flirtation, he was interrupted by a booming voice.

“Bruce! Bruce Wayne!” It was an acquaintance of Bruce, Millionaire Sam Shubert. They shook hands.

“My wife was thrilled to get that invitation to the private Wayne Foundation showing of the greatest diamonds next week” Sam said, exuberantly. Minerva’s ears perked up a the mention of diamonds.

Bruce nodded. “A very interesting affair. Most of the major stones are here already.”

“Under lock and key, I hope.” said Sam.

“Oh, yes, they're quite safe in the Wayne Foundation vault.” replied Bruce. While he was distracted, Minerva reached her diamond ringed hand into his valuables box, and secretly removed Bruce’s watch. Bruce was puzzled when he turned back to his box.

“Somesing wrong, dahling?” asked Minerva.

“I thought I left my wristwatch in this box. I must have been mistaken. Good day, Minerva.” Bruce turned and walked out of the spa.

“Come back soon, dahling!” Minerva called after him, as she was joined at her counter by her henchman, Atlas.

“Those emeralds, Minerva,” said Atlas. “They were in Mrs. Carson's cookie jar, just like you said!”

“Of course zey were,” Minerva laughed, “but I'm no longer interested in ze emeralds, now that I have a vay to get into the Wayne Foundation vault. Vith this vatch, I'm going to have my hands on the vorld's largest diamonds. And zus glorious, glamorous, glittering power!”

****

Later, at stately Wayne Manor, Bruce Wayne received a call in his study. Alfred and Dick stood close by.

“You found my watch, Minerva?”

“Yes, Bruce,” came the sexy Hungarian voice on the other end of the line. “It must have fallen out vhen I unlocked ze box.”

“I’ll send someone down for it.” replied Bruce.

"Vhy don't you come yourself, Bruce. I have a special treat for you." purred Minerva.

Just then, the Batphone lit up. Alfred quickly answered.

“One moment sir," he said to the Commissioner.

"I'll be down shortly," said Bruce. He hung up and immediately answered the red phone.

The Commissioner spoke. "Batman, we need your help, with a rash of robberies for which there is no explanation. Millionaire William Dozier's securities stolen out of a grandfather's clock, oil heiress Camille Carson's emeralds from her cookie jar, producer Howie Horwitz's cash out of his TV set. These are just a few of the robberies, and each swears that no other soul knew where their valuables were located!"

"We'll be there as quickly as possible Commissioner, but first we have one errand to run."

Bruce turned to his ward. "Did you hear that, Dick?"

"A bit. Emeralds, cookie jars, bonds and TV sets." Dick responded.

Bruce raised his finger to his chin in thought before speaking.

"It's the victims that make this case intriguing and unique. They're all immensely wealthy. And they're all frequenters of Minerva's Mineral Spa," Bruce declared.

"Gosh, Bruce. Would Minerva stoop to something like that?"

"It's hard to believe, Dick. She's so beautiful... and worth investigating."

"To the Batpoles?" asked Dick.

"I'm not so sure if investigating as Batman and Robin is the best course of action," said Bruce. "If Minerva is behind the robberies, then we might tip her off to our suspicions. I believe either Bruce Wayne or Dick Grayson should pay Minerva a visit."